Turning Tables
by xMysticRosex
Summary: A short story about Murtagh's journey through the Inheritance Cycle. Named after the Adele song "Turning Tables" because I think it fits Murtagh's journey in this story. Please R&R it's my first story!
1. Chapter 1

They hurried through the shadows of the night; Tornac reached the gates just ahead of Murtagh in their haste to leave Urû'baen. The side gate was open just as the soldier Murtagh bribed had said it would be and Tornac bounded through it eager to escape the city.

Murtagh stopped in his tracks as he saw the older man fall to his knees in front of him. The plan had failed. Tornac was on the ground surrounded by the king's soldiers with a deep wound on his back.

Anger froze Murtagh to the spot as he took in the scene before him. Someone had betrayed them and they were going to pay for it. He reached for his sword and lunged at the nearest soldier, stabbing him in the chest and pushing him back onto two of the others. Tornac had seen part of Murtagh's attack and forced himself onto his feet and charged at the soldiers with his sword in hand.

Tornac's attack caused a distraction amongst the soldiers which Murtagh used to his advantage, cutting them down as hard and fast as he could swing his sword. He was extremely capable with a sword, a talent he gained through the teachings of the man who fought bleeding beside him at that very moment.

Pushing his attack forward, he soon came upon the last soldier who had wounded Tornac once more. With a swipe of his sword Murtagh parted the soldiers head from his body and fell to the ground beside Tornac. The older man was hurt beyond repair yet Murtagh tried to help him to his feet while they heard the thundering footsteps of more soldiers making their way to the gate. Tornac used what appeared to be the last of his energy to push Murtagh away from him.

"Go now, you fool!" Tornac panted. "It's too late for me, but you still have a chance if you leave right now!"

The older man's shouting and strength surprised Murtagh, even more so when he rose to his feet and positioned himself so as to lunge at the first soldier to emerge from within the city.

"I won't go without you," Murtagh spoke in his low, controlled voice. Only those few who really knew him would have been able to detect the emotion with which he spoke. "I can't leave you here like this."

"Murtagh, this is the best way to leave me! I'm dying!" he looked at Murtagh with fierce eyes while still managing to hold his position. "You have to go now or else my death will be for nothing. Leave or I swear with the last breath from my body I will kill you myself!"

Tornac staggered then regained his footing. Murtagh knew it was hopeless to stay and fight and so he walked to where the older man stood swaying, grasped him in an embrace and fled into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

As dawn approached, Murtagh slowed his run to a walk. He felt as though he had been running for days rather than the few hours since he left Tornac to face his death alone. He was desperate to stop moving and rest somewhere just for a moment to fully accept what had happened back at the city. He knew there was no way Tornac could survive the injuries he had been dealt, but it still tormented Murtagh knowing that he had died to help him flee his own torment from a city that wanted to kill him or use him for their own means.

With the anger and pain eating away at him inside and the physical pain from the fighting and running, Murtagh had nothing left to give at that moment. He found a small patch of trees where he hid himself from view of anyone who might be passing. It wasn't much in a way of cover and it certainly wouldn't fool the soldiers that would soon catch up to him, for he knew his tracks would be followed now that they had been discovered escaping the city.

A few hours later than he intended, Murtagh awoke to find the sky dark once more and life still coursing through his body. He had been certain the soldiers would have caught up with him by now and killed him. A feeling of unease swept over him, he drew his sword and made to check the surrounding area for any sign that the kings men were waiting for him to walk into a trap.

Content that there was no sign of anyone else having been there while he was asleep, Murtagh pulled his supplies from his bag and filled his stomach and quenched his thirst. He readied himself and set back out to his destination; the estate of a man whom Tornac trusted. It wouldn't take him much longer to arrive there, Murtagh estimated just after dawn at the latest and if his calculations had been correct.

As he walked through the night, that previous sense of unease returned to him. He was already on edge due to Tornac's death and the fact that the soldiers hadn't caught up with him yet, but as he continued on his journey he began to feel like someone was following him. He tried moving quickly, in and out of the shadows and the trees to catch whoever it was but each time there appeared to be no-one there. Not even an animal appeared to settle his thoughts but at times he thought he could also hear someone following him. Noises that sounded like the slight scuff of a shoe on the ground and yet each time he tried to find out what it was, there was nothing to be seen.

As he guessed it, dawn was just breaking when Murtagh arrived at the town of Tornac's friend. Unsure how the man he was about to meet would take the news of Tornac's death, Murtagh decided it would be best to be ready for any outcome of their meeting and so he found a quiet place to rest and regain his strength in case a fight was necessary.

He awoke with a jerk a short time later feeling as though he had been roused from his sleep by someone standing over him but once again he couldn't see anyone. Deciding that it would be best to get the meeting over with, Murtagh packed up his things and went to look for the man who would decide if he had a home or not.

He had no difficulty finding the house he was looking for, it was the biggest in the town and situated on the outskirts further away than any other house. A small, round bellied man with short, dark hair and a fuzzy beard stood at the entrance seemingly awaiting his arrival.

"Are you Tornac's boy?" the man asked, eying Murtagh in the same way many had looked at him back in Urû'baen; with distrust.

Murtagh nodded in reply and approached the man with caution. They sat on a bench outside the house and Murtagh told the man all about his escape from the city, how they were betrayed by someone and that Tornac had died because of it. The man listened intently, showing no hint as to whether he believed what he was being told or not. Eventually, after a moment of silence he spoke again:

"A deal is a deal, young man. It is most unfortunate that we have lost a man such as Tornac, but I will stand by our deal even in his death as he was a good friend to me. You can stay here, but I will require your help in return with doing work around the house and on the land. However, do not think that because Tornac trusted you that I will do the same. You are still the son of Morzan. Wait here and I'll send someone to show you where you will be staying."

Murtagh watched him leave, unsure what to make of the man yet grateful that he had chosen to let him stay despite him being the son of a traitor and responsible for Tornac's death.


	3. Chapter 3

Murtagh didn't like living in the village. He didn't like the space he had been given to live in, for that was all it could be called. It was an old abandoned hut that chilled him to his bones every night while he tried to sleep on the cold, stone floor with only a thin cover for comfort. He could deal with it though, for what other choice did he have? The thing he hated most though was the waste of time jobs that the man had given him to do since he arrived. He never trusted him to work alongside the other men of the village, not that Murtagh had expected the other men to welcome him as they had all been careful to avoid him. The ones that didn't avoid him were careful to cause him as much trouble as possible. He didn't know if this was because he was new to the village or if it was common knowledge who he was, but he kept his head down and got on with it.

His task for that day was to move dirt and blocks of stone from one pile to another. This was a task that particularly annoyed him for it was obvious there was no reason behind it other than to keep him busy and away from the other towns folk. He went about his task quickly and methodically, any attempt to show that he was willing to work might persuade the man to give him some real work. Although Murtagh doubted it would work, he continued on through the day until his bones were aching. It was all he had left in the world, yet sometimes he couldn't help wonder if he would have been better off staying in Urû'baen doing the kings dirty work. After all, he was Morzan's son and it was what the rest of the world expected of him.

He was so wound-up in his thoughts that he was startled when he heard someone shout "Move!" he couldn't make himself go anywhere; instead he stopped and looked for the reason why anyone would shout the direction to him. He saw it coming too late. Three giant rocks that were at the top of the hill on which he was working were racing towards him. The culprit who had pushed them stood there grinning as he watched his plan roll into action. There was hardly any time to react. Instead of scrambling out of the hole he had been working in he took the more risky option of ducking down into it for cover and hoped the rocks would miss.

The crash of the rocks exploding as they hit the ground around the top of the hole sounded deafening to Murtagh. The pain racing through his ears had made him oblivious to the fact that part of a rock had hit him on the side of the head. He only noticed his injury when he moved his hands from his face and saw the blood. Anger and confusion fought within Murtagh as he threw himself out of the hole and ran up the hill to where the man who tried to kill him stood.

The man was young, about nineteen years old and the grin Murtagh had witnessed earlier had instantly faded to fear when he saw him stalking towards him. Clearly shocked that Murtagh had survived his attempt at killing him, the man stood frozen to the spot. Murtagh dived at him, knocking him to the ground and began pounding his fists into the man's body.

Someone pulled him forcefully from the other man and Murtagh landed on the ground only feet from where he had knocked him down. That was when he saw the hooded figure standing beside a tree. He was still dizzy from being pulled from the other man but when he tried to find the figure again it was gone.

"What in seven hell's is going on here!" It had been Tornac's friend who had pulled him from the man.

"Ask him," Murtagh replied, controlling the anger in his voice. "He just tried to kill me."

"It was an accident!" the beaten man panted. "I moved the stones and they began to roll but it is not me who is the evil one here! I swear to you, he made those stones explode somehow!" he continued in a shout of panicked fear.

The argument continued between Murtagh and the man for a further few minutes before Tornac's friend shouted:

"Stop this right now! I did not see what happened here and so cannot tell which of you speaks the truth! I will settle this right now by suggesting that we all forget about this and be on our way."

The other man scampered away as fast as his legs could take him. Murtagh was about to turn and leave when the older man grabbed him by the arm.

"Now listen to me, I don't know what it is your up to but I do not want you using any magic near my home, do I make myself clear?" his grip on Murtagh's arm tightened as he spoke.

Murtagh was about to deny doing anything, but he knew the man would never believe him so he nodded and watched as the older man walked away and left him alone with his thoughts. He was angry that someone had gotten away with trying to kill him, yet it was the fact that someone had saved him that bothered him more. What's more, they had saved him using magic. The thought unsettled Murtagh as he made his way back to his living space to clean up his cut face.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a foolish idea, Murtagh knew that, but he had to find out who the cloaked figure was and why that person had bothered to save him. He had been waiting on the rooftop for most of the day, hidden from the other villagers view. Darkness was descending upon the town but still he refused to give up waiting on the stranger.

Just as he was about to give up for the night he spotted something near the outskirts of the village moving near the forest. He wasn't sure if it was the cloaked figure or not from such a distance but he decided to risk following just in case. He had to know why they had saved him, even if it meant a fight with a magician that he knew he could never win.

Weaving his way through the streets to the outskirts of the forest, Murtagh arrived quickly but out of breath. His eyes had not deceived him, it was the cloaked figure and it appeared to be waiting for him. He stopped to gain his breath and saw the figure move slowly into the forest as though beckoning him to follow. Deciding quickly to follow the figure, Murtagh drew his sword preparing for an attack and moved towards the forest following after the spot where the figure had been.

He couldn't see the figure once he entered the forest but felt as though he was being directed by some unseen force. A sense of unease and fear took hold of him but he carried on to where he felt he should be going until he found himself in the middle of a clearing in the woods.

He was alone, stood in the centre of the space but he felt like he was being watched. He knew he was the vulnerable one, standing in the open so he didn't try to skirt the edge of the clearing looking for the figure. Instead he looked around him and decided to address them.

"Why don't you show yourself? You brought me here," he said a little louder than he normally spoke so the figure could hear him. "Why did you save me?"

Murtagh startled but tried to hide it when the cloaked figure appeared from behind one of the trees. He could see nothing of the strangers face as the hood of the cloak had them well concealed in shadow. There was a long pause, as though the figure was still deciding whether to speak or not.

"I brought you here because you are making my job a little difficult for me. When I'm watching you and you're watching for me, both of us end up wasting our time really."

Murtagh took a step back in surprise. He hadn't considered that the figure might be a woman and so her voice shocked him. Recovering quickly he asked:

"Why would you want to watch me?"

"You are the son of Morzan, are you not?" her voice was slightly husky yet it had an element of danger to it and Murtagh thought he detected a hint of amusement in her reply.

Murtagh hesitated for an answer; it was obvious she knew exactly who he was but he denied it anyway.

He was cut off as the woman spoke again:

"You might want to point that sword in the other direction. A very pleasant group of soldiers are here looking for you, or not you Murtagh Morzansson. Your little friend has been speaking of magic tricks it seems."

Murtagh didn't believe the woman at first but after a moment he could hear the shouts and footsteps of a large group in the distance. He swore and turned to face the direction of the oncoming soldiers ready to fight.

As the first rush of men charged towards him, he was shocked to find the woman at his side with a blade in her own hands. He instantly thought she was going to attack him, but as he moved to distance himself from her she surprised him by charging at an oncoming soldier. As his wits returned he set about joining her in the fight. Each time he glanced towards the woman he noticed that she had killed three men for every one of his.

_Follow me! We can't win this, there's too many of them and I don't think this is my time to die!_

Murtagh startled at the voice that seemed to be coming from within his own head and almost lost his footing as he battled two of the soldiers. He recognised it as the woman's voice and debated whether or not he had actually heard anything until he saw her motion him to follow her. He debated staying and fighting himself but he knew the woman was right, they could never win this fight and so he set off following her as fast as he could.

It felt as though his arm was being ripped from his body as he kept running to escape the soldiers only to be pulled back in the other direction. It had been the woman pulling on his arm that had caused the pain he realised once his body changed direction and he slammed into her.

"Get down here and stay still," she whispered as she pulled him into a small slope in the forest beside a tree.

Murtagh thought she had gone mad, there was no way that the slope would hide them until he saw the soldiers continue to run past and he realised that she must be using some kind of magic to prevent them from being seen.

After a short while in which they hadn't seen any more soldiers pass them Murtagh made the choice to speak.

"I think they're gone now, we should move," he said as he attempted to get up but the woman pulled him back down again.

"Not yet, we should stay a while longer just to be certain."

Murtagh settled himself back into his spot, uncomfortable at the close proximity of the woman. He still hadn't decided if she really was helping him or luring him into some other trap. He began to wonder what it was she was hiding behind the hood, coming to the conclusion that she must be severely deformed in some way when she surprised him by lowering the hood to reveal what was a normal head of long dark brown hair. It fell across her face so from where Murtagh sat he still couldn't make out her features.

_Well that rules out the two heads theory_, Murtagh thought as he looked at her as closely as he dared without her noticing. She moved her head slightly then and he thought he saw the hint of a smile on her face. He relaxed slightly, comforted that the woman was at least not the monster he had been expecting to emerge from the hood. As though the woman detected the change in his mood, she turned as though to face him then before the movement was complete she quickly faced in front of her again.

"My name is Leora," she said, looking straight in front of her.

It took Murtagh a second to realise she was talking to him because of the direction in which she spoke. Unsure what he should say to the woman, he hesitated in his reply but decided to tell her what she already knew; that he was Murtagh. He then asked her what it was she wanted from him and who had sent her to spy on him. She didn't answer him immediately which irritated Murtagh but he chose not to repeat his question, despite how badly he wanted the answers. He was no longer watching the woman as he had given up hope of a reply, but every now and then he was sure he could see her stealing a glance at him, yet every time he tried to catch her she had already returned her gaze to avoid seeing him.

"I cannot tell you what you wish to hear, Murtagh, not yet. I have to be certain before that will happen. All I can offer you right now is a place to shelter from the soldiers. I know you do not trust me, even as I do not trust you, but I'm asking if you would take my offer?" she had once again startled him with her decision to speak.

Considering her offer for a moment before he made up his mind, he came to the conclusion that he had nowhere else to go and that he would accept the woman's offer. With a nod of his head, which he had no idea how the woman noticed as she was still facing away from him, he accepted the offer and she stood up and asked him to follow her.


End file.
